


To The Angel In My Living Room

by panaceaa



Category: South Park
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-13 04:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17480783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panaceaa/pseuds/panaceaa
Summary: Kenny sometimes has wings, but although dating an angel isn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world, Kyle doesn’t love him any less for it.





	To The Angel In My Living Room

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LWTIS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LWTIS/gifts).



The time on the bottom of Kyle’s laptop screen reads 10:34 pm.

The room is dimly lit, the lamp on his bedside table and the glow of his computer screen the only things saving him from total darkness.

He was off from work tomorrow, and yet his fingers continue to type furiously across his laptop keys, every word bringing him closer to finishing the additional report he’d decided to take on this week. It was something to do at least. Something to get his mind off of other things and make him feel like he had a bit more control over his endless workload. Or at least that’s what he was used to telling himself, even as his brow furrows at the screen and he feels the beginnings of a headache start to form.

Yet, just as he’s considering getting out of bed to grab some _Tylenol_ , there’s a sound from his window that causes his hands to still and his gaze to lift from the screen.

A figure enters his second story window with a grace and easiness only born from practice. Kyle’s heart picks up its tempo at the sight. And as soon as he ducks through the window and into the room, he turns and shuts it behind him, successfully cutting off the sounds of the city street below and bathing the room in silence. Then, without a word, he finally turns to face Kyle.

Kyle’s heart stills.

There was beauty, and there was something beyond that. Something that goes beyond anything existing on earth, more of a feeling than anything that words had the capability to describe. A feeling of awe, as well as an almost soul-consuming gratefulness for not only being able to witness it, but also having it tucked warmly into the palm of his hand. Something that was for his eyes only, and no one else's.

For instance...the first time that Kenny removed his hood for him.

Or, alternatively, the first time he had stepped through his window like this.

Ethereal.

Unearthly.

 _Angelic_.

Hair windswept and a bit more golden than usual. Eyes a little more blue. Snow white wings that shimmer into existence behind him a moment before they vanish once again. An endless flicker back and forth, lingering on the edge of the border between dream and reality.

Without a word, Kyle closes his laptop and places it on his bedside table.

The angel’s lips tilt into a lopsided smile, and he takes a single step forward into the room. “Baby,” he says, “somebody better call God, because it looks like he’s missing an angel.”

Kyle rolls his eyes.

Leave it to Kenny to know exactly how to ruin a moment.

“Kenny,” Kyle sighs, attempting for exasperation but he knows that it falls short under the crack of a smile he can’t quite hold back. “How many times do I have to tell you that angel pick-up lines don’t work if you’re the one saying them?”

A lot apparently, because even now Kenny just laughs. The sound is musical in quality, like windchimes, higher pitched than it sounded normally. But angelic influence or not, Kyle loved the sound all the same. The pick-up lines on the other hand, needed some work.

“Are you a Red Bull, darlin’?” Kenny asks, going for attempt number two as he begins making his way across the room. “Because you give me wings.”

Kyle crosses his arm and raises a brow. “That was terrible.”

Not that Kenny was dissuaded in the least.

Finally reaching their bed, Kenny’s eyes come into view, sparkling in the way they always did when he knew he was being an ass but wasn’t about to stop being one either.

“Okay, well how about you just take off your clothes for me?” Is Kenny’s next line and Kyle’s brow nearly hits his hairline. Unsubtle forwardness was usually Kyle’s go-to, Kenny usually had more tact.

“...Skipping right to the punch line?” Kyle commentates, shuffling back on the bed to make himself more comfortable. Taking his invitation, Kenny moves onto the bed and climbs over top of him.

“Nah,” he says, bracing his forearms on either side of him and nuzzling at his throat. “I just wanted to see where an angel hides his wings.”

Kyle chokes on a laugh. Typical, he should have known. When Kenny pulls back he gives him a dopey smile and Kyle’s heart constricts inside his chest. Reaching up a hand, he gently smooths back Kenny’s hair, the strands instantly falling back in front of his eyes. A hopeless battle as always, but that never stopped Kyle from trying.

“I pray for you every day,” Kyle tells him, voice barely over a whisper. “But no matter what I do, you just keep dying.”

Kenny stares at him, expression turning to something as soft as it is fond. Then he brushes his fingers against his cheek, and Kyle leans into his touch.

“It ain’t so bad,” Kenny says, tone soft. “Least not anymore, now that I can come see you.”

“Couldn’t you always?”

Kenny just hums but doesn’t answer. Moving his hand, Kyle gently traces the outline of one wing, the feel of it more like the feeling of sunlight warming his skin than anything akin to a bird’s wing.

Kenny closes his eyes and deeply inhales.

And Kyle leans up to kiss him. Gently. Once then twice. His skin tingles everywhere they touch, Kenny much warmer than usual. His tongue like liquid sunlight, creating an unearthly mix of taste and sensation. It’s indescribably addictive and it’s not long before he’s lost in the feeling of him.

Completely enraptured. Heart and soul.

***

Kyle wakes up to a stream of sunlight through the window hitting him in the face. The summer sun as merciless as ever. He groans and runs a hand through his hair, the curls already in a heavy state of disarray.

Rolling over, he’s met with a familiar head of blond hair. Kenny. Eyes closed and breaths slow, sleeping soundly despite the same sun that had woken Kyle shining just as brightly onto him. But although his torso is bare there’s no longer any sign of wings. Hair a little more pale. Skin a little less warm. Looking a little more human, but no less beautiful.

Reaching over, Kyle tugs the blanket a little higher up on him.

Then, leaning down, he places a kiss on the corner of his lips. Kenny’s eyelids fluttering in response, lips quirking upward, but not waking.

“Welcome back,” Kyle softly tells him.

***

The streets are a lot different in the city then they had been back in South Park.

Kyle still missed it sometimes, that old small town feel where everyone knew each other. The cool mountain air that always seemed to have just a hint of frost, with what seemed to be an almost constant presence of snow crunching under his boots. Now leaves were the only things to be found underfoot, and although the early-autumn air was chilly, it wasn’t anything like it had been back home.

And although they’d talked about leaving that place since they were kids, he knows for a fact that Kenny missed South Park a little too.

It was the place they both grew up. Where they became friends as children and fell in love as teenagers. Or maybe the falling part happened before that, in the spaces between moments and memories that lingered from their childhood.

Not that the specifics really mattered.

The door shuts behind him as Kyle walks in from the street and into the lobby of their apartment complex. From there he goes down a hall. Up a flight of stairs. Then down another hall. All the while exhaustion weighs on him, and he wants nothing more than to collapse in bed and sleep for the next year or two.

Finally reaching the door of their apartment, Kyle unlocks it and steps through the threshold.

He’s greeted to the sight of Kenny at his easel, hands covered in dark charcoal as he makes more and more of his somewhat amalgamous art piece come to life. Kenny glances over at him for a moment. Gives him a small smile before he turns back and adds another line of paint to his canvas.

And for a moment, Kyle just stands there and watches him. His lips tilting upward into half a smile without his control as he notices the stiff lines of Kenny’s shoulders that suggested he’d been at this for hours, and the way in which his gaze was intensely focused on the canvas in front of him.

In truth, when it came down to it, they’d had to leave South Park whether they’d really wanted to or not. After all, an art career wasn’t meant to be easy, but it’d have been even harder to kick off in a small town. Not that Kyle was expecting to live the rest of his days there anyway. Besides, South Park might have been his hometown, but it was never the location that had meant _home_ to him.

Crossing the room, Kyle goes and drapes his arms around Kenny’s neck, head resting on his shoulder, exhaustion always making him a bit more touchy and affectionate than he would be otherwise. Kenny turns his head to lightly kiss him before looking back at his piece.

“What are you working on?” Kyle asks him.

“I’m really not sure yet,” Kenny says, cocking his head at it. “I think it’s kinda starting to take shape? But I didn’t really have anything in mind with this one. Just...wanted to get something out on paper.”

Tearing his eyes away from Kenny, Kyle inspects the painting in front of them. It definitely had a dark and heavy feel to it, sad in the way that a lot of Kenny’s art tended to be. Formless shadows with only small rivlets of grey to separate dark from darker. Paint strokes heavy and saturated, long almost jagged lines painted down the middle, like a slash of a knife. Vivid red spotting the outer edges, vibrant due only to the contrast against every other blackened shade that reigned over the canvas. Like flecks of blood against asphalt. Against a knife wound. A dark endless void. Eternity.

Kyle barely suppresses a shiver.

It had always amazed him how someone with so much light, so much vibrancy, could paint things that made his heart constrict painfully in his chest without even knowing why. But that was just another side of Kenny. One that hurt him to see.

Not that it made him love him any less.

Releasing a breath of air that’s half a hum and half sigh, Kyle tightens his hold on his shoulders in form of a hug. “How about we go for a walk?” He suggests. “Maybe grab some food while we’re out?”

Kenny gives him a look.

“Aren’t you tired?”

But Kyle ignores the question and kisses his cheek.

“We won’t be gone long.”

***

It was a beautiful day outside.

That fact alone makes Kyle’s walk home from work a much more enjoyable experience. Allows the trip to help invigorate him instead of adding to his exhaustion. And it’s for this reason that he decides to ask Kenny if he’d want to go out for the night. To make use of what might be the last comfortable day of autumn before the winter weather hit, even if South Park had made the two of them well accustomed to the cold.

They could go and grab dinner somewhere, maybe stop to order a smoothie or some coffee afterward that they could then take with them as they walked. Maybe spend some time in the park or in the center of town so they could people-watch for a while, making jokes that they had no business making as they had back when they were teenagers.

It would be fun, relaxing. Something that Kyle definitely needed. And by the time Kyle opens up the door to their apartment and steps through the threshold, he finds himself looking forward to it.

It’s a feeling that gets cut off a moment later, enthusiasm turning to a familiar mix of sympathy and concern.

Standing at the window, was Kenny. He doesn’t turn when Kyle walks in or when he shuts the door behind him, and instead he just continues staring out the window. Earbuds in and shoulders slumped, the faint glow of white feathered wings protruding from his back.

But Kyle knew very well that if anyone from the streets below looked up at that window they wouldn’t even see him. No one could, not when he was like this.

Of course, there was one exception to that rule.

Kyle makes his way across the room towards him, but Kenny still doesn’t move. Doesn’t do anything until Kyle is suddenly standing next to him and he finally glances over. There’s no anger in his expression, no tears, only resignation. A certain degree of hopelessness that shows even as he reaches up to pull one earbud out.

“Again?” Kyle asks unnecessarily, but it’s a question that successfully breaches the silence.

Kenny gives a small shrug. “Went out to pick up a few things at the store,” he explains blankly, “never actually made it there.”

“Did you want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head.

Kyle pauses.

Outside the sun shone brightly on the streets below. People milling about, laughing together, and spending time in what might be the last of the comfortable days before the cold spell hit. Kyle’s lips quirk into a melancholy smile at the sight.

Leaning over, he wraps an arm around Kenny and squeezes him against his side.

“Did you want to take a shower?” Kyle asks him.

Kenny instantly perks up. “Together?”

Seeing some of the light return to Kenny’s eyes, Kyle lets out a light laugh. Pulling away, he gives Kenny’s shoulder a playful shove.

“Obviously.”

***

“Come on Ky, it’s New Year's Eve. You don’t have to cancel just so you can stay with me.”

Releasing a breath through his nose, Kyle finishes pouring his wine before glancing over at Kenny. Glancing over and taking in the guilty and somewhat frustrated look on his face as well as the way his wings were spread out behind him on the sofa in all their iridescent beauty. Kyle just shakes his head.

“I didn’t really want to go out anyway.”

“Kyle-”

“It’s really not a big deal,” he cuts him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. Setting down his glass of wine on the coffee table, he situates himself on Kenny’s lap, careful to avoid crushing any parts of his wings even though Kenny always swore it wouldn’t bother him. Probably a perk to having wings that were only half grounded in reality. Once comfortable, he lightly places a hand on Kenny’s jaw, brushing a thumb across his cheek. “You know, there has to be a reason I can see you like this and no one else can.”

Kenny relinquishes a sigh of defeat, likely coming to terms with the fact that this argument wasn’t one he was going to win. Wrapping his arms lightly around Kyle, he leans into his touch with a bittersweet smile.

“I can think of a few.”

“Like what?”

He hums and turns his head to press a kiss into Kyle’s palm. “Well I do have this one theory,” he says slowly, taking Kyle’s hand from his jaw and twining their fingers together. “So, let’s say that every part of my body was magical, and so if you were to say swallow enough of-“

“Oh my god!” Kyle cuts him off with a surprised laugh and jabs him with his elbow.

“Hey, you didn’t even let me _finish_ ,” Kenny quips with a sly little wink, tightening his hold on Kyle before he can elbow him again. “I was going to say spit,” he says to which Kyle immediately snorts.

“That’s really not that much better,” he responds dryly, and Kenny laughs.

“And here I was thinking that I was being romantic by reminding you of our childhood exploits.”

Kyle raises a brow at him.

“I’m pretty sure _ookie mouth_ was the opposite of romantic.”

“We were each other’s first kiss!”

“Debatable.” Yet, noticing Kenny’s pout, whether it was false or not, Kyle instantly softens. Reaching up, he runs a hand through Kenny’s hair, gently smoothing back a few strands. “But no matter what,” he tells him, “you were the first one who mattered.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Kenny’s eyes light up. And Kyle lets out an easy laugh as Kenny leans forward and nuzzles his face into his neck, Kyle continuing to stroke his hair. When Kenny pulls back it’s with a fond expression that in no way matches what comes from his mouth not a moment later.

“Guess this is the part where I say that until you I’d never even considered swallowing--“

Kyle throws a hand over his mouth causing his words to cut off into muffled laughter.

“ _Kenny_!”

***

“You didn’t get it.”

Kyle looks up from the floor to meet Kenny’s eyes for the first time since he’d gotten home and immediately beelined to the sofa without a word. He wasn’t _sulking_ , even if the open sympathy in Kenny’s expression suggested he didn’t exactly look his best.

“No, I didn’t get it,” Kyle confirms without really needing to. Releasing a frustrated breath, he runs a hand through his hair and glares at nothing in particular. “It’s just not fair! I did everything right,” he complains, defaulting to anger as he so often did. “I go above and beyond what I’m required to do every single fucking day at that stupid office and she gives the position to someone who hardly does shit just because they’re friends.”

Kenny moves to sit beside him, one of his wings coming to rest against Kyle’s back like a warm blanket. Then, still without saying anything, he slides his hands down Kyle’s arm until he reaches his hand, gently prying apart his fingers from where they’d formed into a fist without him even realizing it. Kenny holds his hand between both his own as he rests his head against his shoulder.

“You deserved it more than anyone,” he finally says, his tone heavy with sympathy. “I’m sorry, Ky.”

Kyle releases another heavy breath, most of his anger fading and being replaced by a mix of quiet frustration and weary exhaustion. “I don’t even want to think about that place anymore,” he grumbles. “I’m so fucking tired of working my ass off and it not even goddamn mattering.”

Kenny’s hold on his hand tightens in a comforting squeeze and Kyle can feel his heart rate starting to slow. It was no secret that Kenny had always had this effect on him, and he’d only grown more efficient in his methods with the years. Yet, in a not so usual turn of events, Kenny begins humming a vaguely familiar and upbeat tune under his breath. Kyle’s lips tilt upward at the sound.

“What are you doing?”

But Kenny only slides away with a cheeky little wink, standing with a gesture for Kyle to wait right there. “Hold on,” he says with a certain glint to his eyes. “I know something that will cheer you up.”

Before Kyle can get out another word he’s already rushing into their spare room, and not a moment later he’s walking back out with his guitar in hand. Kyle bursts out laughing at the sight.

“You’re _kidding_. _This_ is your big plan?” Raising a brow, Kyle crosses his arms. “ _Serenading_ me?”

“Trust me, babe,” he says with a lopsided grin, getting into position. “You can thank me later.”

And that’s the last thing he says before his fingers strum the first few “notes” on the guitar and he starts to sing. With a mix between amusement and what’s probably best described as fond exasperation, Kyle recognizes the beginning of Britney Spears’ _Thinkin’ About You_. Typical. Kenny was after all, first and foremost, a dedicated Britney fan.

Kenny’s voice was always a bit different when he had his wings, a bit higher pitched, yet it was a nuance that was barely noticeable until he sang. Not that Kenny was ever a bad singer, not in the slightest, but there was a reason that having the ‘voice of an angel’ had such a positive connotation.

The guitar playing on the other hand…

 _Not_ so angelic.

Apparently, guitar playing skills were not something angels were gifted with.

The song comes to an end with the last of the song’s lyrics and a few final strums of the guitar, and when the room is once again bathed in silence Kyle just looks at him and shakes his head.

“You could always just sing, you know?” Kyle asks him in a tone full of fond amusement, watching as Kenny puts down the instrument. “You don’t have to bring out that dumb guitar all the time.”

“Yeah,” Kenny shrugs once he straightens. “I know.”

“Then why do you do it?” Kyle asks out of honest curiosity and Kenny, not offended in the least, offers his stupidly charming lopsided smile.

“It makes you laugh, doesn’t it?”

Kyle’s stomach flutters at what might have been both the corniest and sweetest thing that he’d ever heard. Rising to his feet, he walks over to Kenny and grabs him by the collar of his shirt. “You’re such a fucking dork,” he tells him.

Then he yanks him forward and kisses him.

***

It’s a warm and beautiful spring day.

Since it was the weekend, Kyle had the day off and he and Kenny were choosing to spend it in one of their favorite ways. A perfect day spent walking around and doing whatever the hell they wanted. A journey which had eventually led them to where they were now, sitting side by side on the concrete edge of the park’s fountain. Right in the middle of the hustle and bustle of town, and yet caught in their own little world.

“They say if you do something great every day you get to go to heaven,” Kenny says without preamble.

Kyle looks over at him and raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah?”

“Yep,” Kenny says, turning his head away from the sky to shoot him a smarmy smile. “That’s why we fuck so much.”

With a startled laugh, Kyle playfully shoves him. “Shut the fuck up.”

***

Kyle wakes up in the middle of the night to an empty bed.

Looking at the clock reveals the time to be a lovely 3:47 am, yet the sheets beside him are cold despite the fact that Kenny had _definitely_ gone to bed with him that night. His tired brain trying to come up with a plausible explanation and failing, he sits up and looks around the room. When nothing unusual jumps out at him, he kicks aside the blanket and rises to his feet to go look.

He doesn’t have to search long. The minute he enters the living room he’s greeted by a dim light emanating from the lamp in the corner of the room, and as his eyes adjust and he takes in the scene it’s only to see a familiar form perched in front of his easel.

“Kenny?” Kyle questions softly as he approaches him, voice still heavy with sleep. There are no wings on his back, yet Kenny’s eyes when he looks up are bright in the darkness as they always seemed to be. He blinks as if surprised to see Kyle there, before his expression softens.

“Sorry, I’m just working on something.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“Yeah, I was...inspired,” Kenny answers, glancing back towards his painting, his lips tilting into the smallest of smiles as he does so. “You know how it is.”

Kyle blinks. He wasn’t used to seeing Kenny smile at the things that he painted, always not quite satisfied for some reason or another. And for a moment Kyle blames his sleep-heavy brain for playing tricks on him, especially due to the fact he couldn’t see what Kenny was painting since the easel was facing away from him.

“Can I see?”

“When it’s done,” Kenny answers. “I’ve actually been working on this piece for a while now, I wanna get it right.”

And Kyle would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious, but this wasn’t something he would ever push for. Kenny would show him when he was ready. So, Kyle only settles in on the sofa, sleepily resting his head on the armrest as he keeps his eyes trained on Kenny.

“You always do,” Kyle tells him.

***

The plan for today had been to go to the movies since it was the weekend and Kyle was off. Although one nightly incident later and a boyfriend with a pair of wings flying through his window, and their plans were quickly changed.

But that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. They’d long since learned to make the most of it.

Movies could be rented from home, and theaters didn’t necessarily have the luxury of privacy like their apartment did. Wouldn’t allow them to do as they were now, for instance. Snuggled together on the couch and watching romantic comedies, Kyle talking through every scene commentating on how dumb and overly cliche things were, and Kenny laughing in agreement while occasionally offering his own input. It was a long-held tradition that used to annoy the hell out of Stan during their movie nights.

“I don’t get what the big deal is with slow dancing,” Kyle commentates at one point, watching the actors dance in a circle as sappy music played in the background. It looked stiff and awkward, and the overall opposite of romantic.

Yet, this time Kenny doesn't laugh in agreement as usual. Instead he’s only met with silence, and Kyle looks over to see Kenny staring at him with his head cocked slightly to the side, as if puzzling something out.

“What?”

“You’ve never slow danced before,” Kenny says as if he’d just come to some startling conclusion.

But, of course, it was true. Not that Kyle was exactly torn up over that little fact. He and Kenny had never even gone to prom together, instead deciding to start prom weekend early on a road-trip with Stan and Cartman. A trip that although had been filled with alcohol and a sense of teenage rebellion, also held some of his fondest memories. Some of the last ones he had while the four of them were still together before college happened, and was also home to the first time he’d worked up the nerve to tell Kenny McCormick he was in love with him.

Suffice to say, not going to his senior prom wasn’t something he regretted.

“So?” Kyle responds a bit defensively, crossing his arms tightly against his sides. “And you have?”

“Bebe is one of my best friends, babe,” Kenny says with a small smile in answer, before shaking his head with a quiet laugh and taking Kyle’s hand. Then, without warning, he’s standing and pulling Kyle to his feet with him.

“Kenny wha-”

“Come on, we’re doing this.”

And by “ _this_ ”, Kyle quickly discovers that Kenny apparently meant the lame art of dancing. He tugs Kyle to the middle of the room despite his protests, and takes his hands and places them at his waist before wrapping his arms around Kyle’s shoulders. Then, with Kenny leading, they slowly move together. One step. Then two. Then three. A simple pattern of movement to a soundless tune in the middle of their living room floor.

“Kenny there isn’t even music, this is stupid,” Kyle whines, still not getting it. Looking at his perfect boyfriend with his charm and the unearthly beauty of having a pair of wings glowing softly at his back, while Kyle was left feeling _stupid_.

“I could sing?”

“I’m not slow dancing to a Britney Spears’ song,” Kyle deadpans, knowing intrinsically well exactly who would always be Kenny’s first choice in music artist. Besides, as if he also needed to be reminded that Kenny had a perfect singing voice.

Kenny laughs, not denying it. “Just relax,” he says instead. “You’re tense for no reason.”

“I’m not coordinated enough for this,” Kyle tells him before going further into his thought process. “I’m going to fall, or trip you and then I’ll probably break something, which might not be bad because then I’ll be able to tell you I told you so and-”

“ _Relax_ ,” Kenny says, nuzzling into the side of his neck and successfully cutting off his rambling. “I’ve got you.”

Kyle takes a deep breath. Right, there was no need to be nervous. It was only Kenny. Kenny who’d been one of his best friends for as long as he could remember, and who had eventually become his boyfriend. Kenny who used to sneak into his room late at night long before they started dating, and who Kyle would always tell everything to that was too deep for his relationship with Stan. Sometimes it was just a little difficult to connect that orange parka wearing kid with the angelic being before him, especially when he was feeling a bit like an uncoordinated moron.

But he just needed to stop overthinking everything and breathe.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Step right. Step left.

He could do this.

“Yeah,” he exhales. “Okay.”

***

The feeling of inadequacy wasn’t something that Kyle was a stranger to; although, he did like to think that he hid it well behind a deep-seated confidence in his opinions and decisions, as well as a certain determination to keep moving forward. But it was always times like this, with his and Kenny’s clothes shed and thrown carelessly around the floor, that he couldn’t help but stop and think _holyshit_. That being accompanied by the subtle wondering of how the hell he was lucky enough to get here.

Kenny with his back against the mattress, the image of stark white wings spread out on either side of him flickering into existence a moment before Kyle blinks and they’re gone again. Yet, whether they were grounded in reality or not, Kyle always knew they were there. Could feel their warmth under his fingers, and could feel them twitch and shudder with every lewd sound Kenny made.

It was times like this, with Kenny heaving beneath him as either angel or human, that never once failed to leave Kyle breathless.

Kenny lets out a laugh, successfully jarring him from his thoughts, and he reaches a hand up to his head. “You’ve got a feather in your hair.”

As he retracts his hand, Kyle looks to the feather now nestled in Kenny’s palm before it flickers out of existence before his eyes. Bright, beautiful, and unearthly.

 _Angelic_.

“I always feel like I’m defiling you or something,” he admits, the words falling from his tongue without thinking. And, rather unsurprisingly, Kenny _laughs_.

“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard you say,” Kenny says, still shaking with now silent laughter. “Kyle Broflovski, _defiler of angels_. The one who stole poor Kenny McCormick’s innocence. The one-”

“God, remember when you used to be quiet?” Kyle cuts in, leaning forward to press forehead against Kenny’s and bringing up a hand to caress the curve of his jaw. And despite his words, his lips are tilted into a fond smile. “Now it’s like you don’t know when to shut up.”

But rebuke aside, Kyle knew the reason as to why that was. They both did, even if they never really said it.

After all, there was a reason Kenny was still relatively quiet around other people. It was the same reason why Kyle always took the initiative to talk for them both while Kenny was content to stand back and listen.

They’d been at each other’s side for a very long time.

“And now you just said the Lord's name in vain,” Kenny quips back. “What _would_ your mother say?”

Kyle groans.

“ _Please_ don’t talk about my mom right now.”

“You could always try shutting me up, that m- _mph_ -”

Taking his advice, Kyle stops all further conversation with his tongue.

***

Kyle is lightly shaken awake.

His eyes crack open to the sight of the living room bathed in dim light. A testament to the fact that it was still the middle of the night, something that shouldn’t have gone along with the very awake and exuberant face peering down at him.

“Kenny?” Kyle lightly questions with a yawn, lifting his head from the armrest and stretching out the lingering stiffness in his neck from sleeping in such a position again.

“I finally finished it.”

Kyle’s sleep-dazed brain has trouble making sense of the words at first, but then realization dawns and his lips tilt into a soft smile. Taking the hand Kenny extends towards him, Kyle stands and allows himself to be lead over to his easel. There’s a certain sense of nervousness from Kenny, apparent from the way he keeps playing with the drawstrings of his hoodie as if tempted to tighten them, but there’s also an unmistakable eagerness that lights up his expression.

And once Kyle is standing in front of the painting he understands why.

Unlike Kenny’s usual paintings this one is full of light. Bright and vivid yellows the color of sunlight, and other luminescent tones that give off an aura of warmth. It’s a stunning mixture of color that reminds him of bright spring days spent in the park and of sunlight pouring through the window on a lazy morning.

Yet, while the use of color leaves him stunned, it’s the content that strikes him speechless.

It’s a painting of him and Kenny. Of two similar beings. Both otherworldly, beautiful, and with identical pairs of wings. Around them was an endless sky, lightened streams of heavenly light following the dusted clouds and the orange and blue painted horizon that could have gone on for eternities. A world they could have easily been lost in. Yet, they stand on the ground together. Two angelic beings untouched by darkness and without any need to fly.

“I’ve only been half joking with all those angel pick-up lines, you know?” Kenny says softly, breaking Kyle from his trance. Tearing his eyes from the painting, Kyle turns his head towards him and sees the same nervousness present, but this time in place of excitement there’s only a soft fondness in the way he looks back at Kyle.

“Kenny…” Kyle starts only to trail off, feeling choked up with a warmth in his chest that is almost overwhelming. For once, he has no idea what to say.

So, this time, Kenny’s the one who speaks for him.

“I used to go to hell almost every time I died,” he explains, turning his head back towards his painting. “But now I go to heaven almost every time. I’m even allowed to come back, and you can actually see me when I do, even though no one else can. And, well, I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and I think I know why now.”

“Yeah?”

Kenny nods.

“Because maybe I’m your angel, in the same way that you’re mine,” Kenny tells him.

It’s a somewhat corny sentiment, and Kyle would have thought he was joking if it wasn’t for the context mixed with the way he was looking towards him as if Kyle was the one who hung the stars in the sky and not the other way around. But then again, that wasn’t all that unusual for them. And so, while caught somewhere between genuine astonishment and an all-consuming love for the man beside him that was sometimes terrifying in its intensity, Kyle finally finds his voice.

“Makes sense,” he says, wrapping an arm around Kenny and pulling him against his side. “But I also do have my own theory. I don’t believe that anyone who could be so selflessly in love could ever be bad enough for hell.”

Kenny blinks, and then a warm and tender smile pulls at his lips.

“Yeah,” he agrees softly, pressing more firmly against Kyle’s side. “I think you might be right.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, Lene!! You're the absolute sweetest and ilu<3 
> 
> A good portion of this fic was definitely inspired by the amazing Creek fic that Lene wrote me for my own bday~ appropriately titled "To All The Demons Under My Bed" so I highly recommend checking that out if ya'll haven't already. 
> 
> OH and of course this fic was written with Lene's style as my main point of influence, mainly "Sous Le Ciel De Paris" which quickly became my all-time favorite K2 fic and I very highly recommend reading it. Please do yourself a favor<3 
> 
> Also I credit Kenny's love for Britney Spears to corrupted_quiet. I entirely blame them for that headcanon<3
> 
> As always comments are very much appreciated! :D


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